First Light

Morning...new and mysterious, when the soft light touches the flowers with gentle accents, bringing together the revealed forms of petal and leaf and stem. And during this fleeting time, when the things of nature are refreshed, wet with lines and shapes of restless night, I peer through small windows of wakefullness. With rested clarity, my mind's eye welcomes the fugitive light entering my brain. Impressions come like schools of fish swimming in a dark tide, swept up in a rolling surf, and carried off to unknown shores. There, I live a thousand times in the Dawn's shattered rays, while the colors play on the waters edge, rising and falling again and again, mixing in the light and shadows of the morning tide. And within the net of my gaze, I catch a glimpse of gold and precious stone, of winged life against the vast unknown of dreams, until the moment stiffens in forgetfullness, while the last color fades into the noise of day...